


feels like time is on my time

by carnation



Category: Naruto
Genre: Community: femslash_kink, F/F, Outdoor Sex, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 01:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5315003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnation/pseuds/carnation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>However many doors they close behind them, however firmly Sakura locks her shutters, however many excuses they pile up across their wake – there’s no such thing as privacy, and no way to keep a secret from the all-seeing, all-disapproving gaze of Hinata’s clan. </p><p>Or – not inside the village, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	feels like time is on my time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt 'Sakura/Hinata, secret girlfriends', at femslash_kink.

 

It’s not easy to keep secrets from the Hyuuga. Seeing Hinata means an endless challenge of logistics and scheduling and calling in favours where Sakura’s owed them: a shared mission here, an overlapping shift there, a trip to the hot springs with Tenten and Ino coaxed along as plausible cover. However many doors they close behind them, however firmly Sakura locks her shutters, however many excuses they pile up across their wake – there’s no such thing as privacy, and no way to keep a secret from the all-seeing, all-disapproving gaze of Hinata’s clan. 

Or – not inside the village, anyway. 

 

\---

 

The sun is a thin line of light on the horizon when Sakura reaches the village gate. Hinata’s already there, mission pack sitting at her feet. Her head’s turned to Sakura, but maybe she’s looking at the sunrise too; her pale eyes tilt up with her smile as Sakura approaches, and perhaps she’s looking at both, to be as sweetly happy as she is right now. 

“It’s a long way to Tea Country,” Sakura says. She plants her hands on her hips, all business. “Hard terrain, a lot of border crossings. There’s going to be a lot of sleeping rough before we get there. You sure you’re ready for it?”

Hinata’s smile is getting sweeter still. She presses her lips together like she’s trying to hide it, and says, solemnly, “I, um – think I’m definitely ready, Sakura-chan.”

Her hair’s still damp – must have showered before she left. It’s nearly black in the weak light of dawn. Sakura’d like to tuck it back behind her ear and press her lips to where it was, the soft curve of Hinata’s cheek, flushed a little pink with the morning chill. She doesn’t. She touches her fingertips to Hinata’s elbow instead and looks her in the eye and smiles, quick and bright. 

It’s almost a ritual by now: inside the village there’s no touching, no nothing. Almost a ritual, but definitely a game; it feels like playing when Hinata dips her head in polite, distant acknowledgment, swinging her pack up onto her back. Friends and colleagues, nothing more. At this hour it’s unlikely any Hyuuga would even be awake to notice if either of them went further – if Hinata’s hand found Sakura’s, if Sakura kissed her up against the village wall itself – let alone that any Hyuuga would be turning their attentions to this unremarkable gate, to these unremarkable chuunin – just two kunoichi, setting off on a routine intel mission in the ruddy light of dawn – it’s unlikely anyone would be looking at all, at the exact moment that either of them made a move and gave the game away... 

But it _is_ a game, and it’s one they’re both committed to. “Better get going, then,” Sakura says, in an obnoxiously jolly, comradely voice, “don’t want to fall off schedule before we’ve even begun—” but it comes out stifled by the end, from the way that laughter’s stewing helplessly up inside her, all mixed up and brewing to a heat with her anticipation. 

She’d rather not sneak around at all, but at least this way the act of keeping a secret becomes its very own secret thrill. Pretending there’s nothing there makes the something that _is_ there more potent still, and the tension bubbles up and up between them: unspoken, unacknowledged, and – on mornings like this, with the certainty of a reprieve so close in their future – halfway to unbearable, as well. 

 

\--- 

 

They pitch camp that night in a forest clearing where the grass is matted with moss and springy underfoot, and in the late, fading warmth of summer they finally get around to making up for lost time. 

Little enough of the day is left now that the clearing is bathed in the reddish light of sunset. The mossy ground is soft beneath Sakura’s knees when she follows Hinata down. Hinata doesn’t like to say what she wants; it makes her blush hot, and not always in the way that means she’s liking it – but _please_ she can manage, and, “Please,” she says, as Sakura straddles her and leans down to kiss her, cheek and jaw and neck and collarbone, “oh, please, Sakura-chan—” She curls her hands into Sakura’s waist then uncurls them, her touch fluttering and indecisive, never quite settling. 

“Hinata,” she says at last – her voice low, directly into Hinata’s ear, and Hinata shudders like she hadn’t meant to move at all. “Hinata – can you tell me if there’s anyone nearby?”

“Ah – yes,” says Hinata, blinking in surprise, “yes, I – why, did you hear something?” 

Sakura sits back. There’s a bug crawling up Hinata’s jacket. She flicks it away, and says, “I’d just like to check something.”

Hinata presses her hands together. She closes her eyes then opens them, and frowns up in concentration at the reddish patches of sunset glowing through the treetops. Her eyes are unseeing; her dark hair is mussed out around her on the ground; and then she blinks, and focuses back on Sakura again. “Not nearby,” she says. “There’s a – probably a civilian party? With a cart, out on the main road. And a few other people on the road, but I think they’re all just travelling through. And then there’s the town – the one we’re going through tomorrow? But everything seems normal there... Is everything okay, Sakura-chan?”

“Oh, it’s more than okay,” Sakura says cheerily. “That sounds private enough for me.”

“Private enough for – _oh_ ,” says Hinata, suddenly flustered, and immediately twice as flustered when Sakura yanks her shirt off over her head. “We haven’t even – let me, Sakura-chan! I’ll help with—” and in her hurry to be helpful she rears up so suddenly that Sakura loses balance, and sits back with a thump on the ground between Hinata’s legs. 

There’s an undignified scuffle. Sakura’s laughing too hard for it to be anything but. “You’ve got grass stains,” Hinata says, sounding unaccountably dismayed by the discovery. Her hands are ticklish on Sakura’s knee, rubbing at the marks like they’re evidence of tragic and irreparable damage. 

“And you’ve got pine needles in your hair,” says Sakura, “but we can work around it. Hips up—” and Hinata’s trousers go the same way as Sakura’s shirt, crumpled against their travel packs beneath the leaning, yawning shadow of a nearby tree. 

Hinata’s flushed all down her chest when the jacket comes off. Sakura starts peeling off the bandages wrapped across her breasts, and the flush continues there as well, her chest rising and falling fast. Beneath the bindings are the pressure marks they’ve left, slowly fading stripes of pink – “Sakura-chan,” Hinata begins, and Sakura ducks her head to soothe them with her tongue. How much soothing gets done is questionable, though. Hinata’s hands are curling in her hair and uncurling, clutching at her shoulder, settling for restless moments on her scapula, cupped against her nape, fingers sliding aimlessly through her hair. The pressure is irregular enough to be maddening, unpredictable enough to feel electric when it comes. 

“Please—” Hinata begins again, and Sakura obliges. 

The forest is alive with the sounds of night-time waking up, cracking twigs and shuffling leaf litter, birds crying out and the treetops rustling, shushing, moving endlessly above. Hinata comes once under Sakura’s mouth, with a little startled yelp like her own climax has taken her utterly by surprise, and her thighs shake desperately against Sakura’s hands where she’s holding her firmly, immovably open – and immediately she bucks her hips for more, a reflex action: _please_. 

The second time, she opens her mouth wider into the kiss and lets out a jerky whimper that turns into a sigh; and Sakura keeps pushing, stroking her through it from the inside out, until a minute or so later Hinata rolls her head away and says, “You have to let _me_ , now—” though she’s still boneless, and nearly still breathless. 

Sakura licks her fingers clean. Hinata’s arm is across her eyes, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t see it. If the flush that burns across her cheeks and rapidly down is anything to go by, she _definitely_ sees it. “All right,” Sakura says considerately, with her most comradely voice back in place. “Anything for a teammate.”

“Sakura-chan!” Hinata protests, but she’s laughing too as she pulls for the front flap of Sakura’s skirt, tugging her nearer – then nearer still, not saying what she wants but asking for it anyway – until Sakura gets the message, and clambers across her again and sinks carefully, carefully into place. 

It’s the one time Hinata’s hands settle, like she’s got a job she’s sure of, and she knows what she’s doing. Sakura braces her palms against the ground; with the first pressure of Hinata’s tongue, her fists involuntarily clench so hard she ends up with two handfuls of wet forest dirt. 

 

\---

 

Keeping secrets from the Hyuuga isn’t easy, and sometimes the only way to do it is wide out in the open. Still – thinks Sakura, picking twigs patiently out of her hair – maybe tomorrow night, they should try keeping their secret in the comfort of an inn instead.

 


End file.
